Lonliness
by Ainur LeFallnathe
Summary: Will D ever be able to share his life with anyone?.....other than his hand, that is...


Dancing Boar was not the best shelter that D could have chosen from. But, unfortunately for him, time was not on his side.  
  
The sun was shining.  
  
If he didn't get out of the heat soon, D knew what the consequences would be...  
  
Gently shoving the doors of the dank tavern in, the hunter was greeted immediately with an uncomfortable silence. Drunks and superstitious townsfolk that were previously laughing and making merry were now conversing quietly to each other, taking daring glances at the stranger that stood in the doorway.  
  
D sighed. Would it always be this way? He thought for a split second. He nearly laughed aloud at that stupid question.  
  
Taking a long stride to the counter, D motioned for ale at the trembling mass of a bartender.  
  
"A-at this tavern," the tender barely managed. "W-w-we likes to see the m- money first."  
  
Nodding slightly, D reached into his black cloak and retrieved from some deep pocket three gold sovereigns, much more than the local brew was worth, but he didn't really feel like getting into a fight over prices...  
  
Sitting in the darkest corner of the room, D drank from his flagon as the bar regained its previous commotion. People were still looking at him and undoubtedly deeming him, by his dark apparel and broad brimmed hat, an unwanted guest. He shrugged and silently wondered how long it would be until they got the torches and pitchforks.  
  
"Five, maybe six minutes at best." His hand replied smugly.  
  
D groaned. Couldn't the damned thing just SHUT up? Just for one day...?  
  
"And can you blame them? Not only do you reek of something foul—"  
  
D clamped his hand shut very tightly  
  
"—but also you dress like a goth! I mean, c'mon! Can we see a little color in there?"  
  
Trying his best not to take his dagger to his own dissentious hand, D finished his ale and closed his eyes, falling into a light sleep....  
  
When he awoke, he was starring into the barrel of a gun.  
  
D mentally cussed at his hands accurate predictions.  
  
"You. Vampire Hunter."  
  
He looked up to see that the holder of the gun was a man that must have been in his early twenties or so. The way his golden hair hung across his broad face and his casual stance told D he was the town hotshot, here to save the day from the big bad scary man.  
  
"ARE YOU A VAMPIRE HUNTER?" The man demanded, trying to act tough, but his voice quavered enough to show his fear.  
  
"Mm? Me?" D pointed to himself innocently.  
  
"Yes, you!"  
  
D fully straightened his gaze to meet the man's eyes. No. Not a man. A boy...  
  
"Why do you think me a hunter?"  
  
The boy snorted arrogantly, but still cautiously. "You dress in black, you carry a cross-sword, and the village girls saw the way you were weakened from the sun. You are, aren't you?"  
  
D was still deciding if he should answer at all. That was obviously too slow for the boy. Tightening his grip on the gun, the would-be-hero bravely neared the gun to D's face.  
  
"Get out of our town. Your like isn't welcome here."  
  
D sighed and stood up, letting the kid bathe in fear as he realized the hunter was nearly twice his length.  
  
Bowing, D walk silently past the boy and towards the door.  
  
Hmm. Look at that. Pitchforks.  
  
True to his earlier assumption, the entire town was gathered outside of the little tavern, with, but of course, torches, pitchforks, and other knick- knacks the villagers thought might help protect them against this devil.  
  
Though no one dared get too near, they jeered at him. They called him a devil, a demon. These D could take. But when some hapless idiot shouted out, "Git outta here, ya MURDERER!", D thought maybe just one killing would be all right for tonight...  
  
Mercifully, D let the village be.  
  
When he left it was nearing dusk, and now, three miles away from the town, he was perfectly content in the darkness.  
  
"Didn't I tell ya? Haven't I warned you before? DON'T GO INTO VILLAGES! They... won't understand. They can't. It's not really their fault that their minds are so puny..."  
  
And the conversation went on from there, D's hand answering itself and questioning no one in particular, and D thinking silently to himself.  
  
As the night was coming to an end, D found himself on an old, ivy-covered path that must have not been used for generations.  
  
Walking swiftly and silently over the under-brush, he began to pick up a smell that he knew all too well...  
  
Blood... 


End file.
